


Not Important

by amooniesong



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: It didn’t feel like a joke anymore.Every time he wanted to meet up with Bad - every time Bad mentioned wanting to meet him and he dropped everything just to refresh the (permanently open) tab of flights - Bad said he was busy. No matter what, he was busy.He was always, always busy.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed & Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 17
Kudos: 70





	Not Important

It didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

Every time he wanted to meet up with Bad - every time Bad mentioned wanting to meet him and he dropped  _ everything  _ just to refresh the (permanently open) tab of flights - Bad said he was busy. No matter what, he was busy. 

He was always,  _ always  _ busy.

Skeppy felt so tired.

At first it had seemed funny, and their audience seemed to think that too. Then it became a meme, and even though it was  _ less  _ funny, people still seemed to laugh. It was predictable, they knew what was coming next, their fans enjoyed it.

But after months and months of being told that his friend - his  _ best friend  _ \- was busy, Skeppy was beginning to have second thoughts.

Were he and Bad really best friends? Surely if they were, Bad would have said yes. Surely if they were as close as he thought they were, Bad would talk to him about what made him  _ busy,  _ he’d try and work some time into their schedules. It didn’t have to be a last minute thing, they could plan it months in advance if needed, but Bad was always just… Busy.

Skeppy had never felt less important in his life. 

So, for the first time in years, when he woke up to see a Discord message from Bad he simply turned his phone over and rolled so his back faced the bedside table. If he wasn’t important to Bad, then he could show that the feeling was mutual.

The only thing was, it  _ wasn’t.  _ He imagined that for Bad it came naturally, it was the easiest thing in the world, and if he didn’t text back for a few hours that he would just get on with his day. For Skeppy, his stomach churned and tightened into knots the moment he’d rolled over, and it didn’t take long for guilt to eat away at him enough that his vision became blurry with unshed tears. Bad was important to him, as important as breathing, but he was trying to make a point. 

Eventually, he managed to fall back to sleep. It was fitful, uncomfortable, and left him more exhausted than when he’d first woken up. It passed a few hours. He looked at his phone to confirm the time and saw that alongside a Discord message, he now also had a message on WhatsApp from Bad.

He placed his phone face down on the bedside table once more, forcing himself to his feet and walking to his kitchen to eat something. Technically, this was breakfast. Just because it was two in the afternoon didn’t make it any less breakfast. It was fruit loops, after all. Dry fruit loops. He didn’t want milk. 

After picking at his food for a while, the guilt kicked back in, and this time his twisting stomach left him feeling too nauseous to continue eating. 

He went back to bed. 

He could check his phone, he could reply to Bad’s messages, he could do away with the awful feeling in his stomach completely. But he reminded himself not to, that this was the point, that if he wasn’t important to Bad he needed to realise that, slowly wean himself off his dependence on the man. It wasn’t fair to Bad in the long term - not if he had more important goals and wants in life. 

When his phone vibrated several times he allowed himself to look at the screen again and saw that, this time, it was Twitter. Bad had posted a tweet asking if he wanted to meet up, and his friends were replying. He couldn’t bring himself to unlock his phone and type out a reply, because he knew if he  _ did  _ his fans would expect him to be excited, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be enthusiastic about anything during his self imposed exile. Bad just wanted to tweet something funny, he presumed.

It still wasn’t funny to him.

He didn’t sleep again, but he didn’t move from his bed. His eyes stared at the wall, watching as the light peeking through his blinds changed as the hours passed.

He missed two calls from Bad.

As soon as night fell, he decided he could go back to sleep. He hadn’t done anything at all, but the act of forcing himself to stay away from Bad for an entire day had left him exhausted. He felt drained, empty, and alone. He never wanted to feel like that again, never wanted the thousands of miles between the two of them to be so real.

When he woke up in the morning, he waited for Bad to text first. 

When he replied, the conversation was much more jolted than they had been before. His mind still lingered on the feelings from the day before, he struggled to feign any kind of zeal for the situation. Bad asked if he was okay, he said he was fine. They moved on.

He supposed, at the end of the day, it had worked.

He knew now he wasn’t that important to his best friend, and he at least knew what his life would look like without him in it.

**Author's Note:**

> sad skeppy :( sorry for no comfort, just wanted to write some sad
> 
> maybe i'll write a follow up when i'm less busy (that is potentially comfort) - lmk if that's something you'd be interested in :) & as always, if you enjoyed please leave comments & kudos, they really do make my day!


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